CHAPTER 8
After a few minutes of silence, Hermione clasped her fingers together and stretched out her arms over the small table before saying with a sigh, “I suppose we should get going now.”
Draco set his own mug aside and then nodded. “Yes, I’ll expect you want to go to a few other places before we head back for the castle. No, no,” he exclaimed as he watched Hermione pull out her money purse. “Don’t even think about it! I’m paying.”
She rolled her eyes as she set a few galleons on the table. “Well, sheesh, at least let me leave the tip, Draco.”
Now slightly alarmed at his lack of proper grooming and decorum, he leaped up to help Hermione out of her seat on the other side of the table. But, of course, he managed to trip over a slightly raised wooden board on the floor, and instead of helping Hermione to her feet as he had planned, he toppled over and threw Hermione flat on her back onto the (thankfully) cushioned seat.
Instantly, Draco felt like his windpipe was clogged and he couldn’t breathe…his entire body was going into total overdrive.
Hermione’s warm and startled eyes peered into his own gray ones, and Draco had to really put up a good fight against his impulses as her breath delicately fanned his face. As he inhaled, he could smell the intoxicating scents of her perfume, and a quick glance downwards told him that Hermione was literally trapped between his legs. He opened his mouth to speak, though what he had no clue what to say, but before any words left his mouth, Hermione gently pushed him back, refraining him from making a total jackass of himself.
What’s wrong with me, what’s wrong with me! Draco shouted in his mind as they both hurriedly left the cozy pub following his red-faced payment to old Tom. What the bloody hell was I thinking? What was I going to do, KISS HER? Am I freaking insane? I swear my name should be Draco Malfuck, I fuck things up so much!
Neither one of them wanted to face each other for a while, so they both looked at shops on opposite sides as they meandered down the worn main path. Suddenly, Draco saw Blaise up ahead with a fairly short redhead at his side. They were both laughing and trying to surreptitiously trip each other as they walked towards Draco and Hermione.
Ginny noticed the two of them first, and quickly nudged Blaise who also looked up. He smiled sheepishly at Draco first before looking at Hermione, but Ginny stepped forward with her arms open and enveloped Hermione in a hug.
Hermione looked a little surprised, but Draco saw that she hugged Ginny back just as warmly.
Blaise cleared his throat as Ginny pulled back and resumed her position next to him. “So, uh, Draco,” he began, “Where have you guys been?”
“Oh, we were just in the Three Broomsticks!” Hermione replied quickly. She then spoke to Ginny. “Have you two been shopping anywhere, or are you just taking a walk?”
“We just wanted to have a nice outing,” Ginny said as she watched Draco raise an eyebrow at Blaise who was diligently avoiding his gaze. “It’s quite a lovely day, and it feels great to be outdoors. I mean, Merlin knows that Quidditch is fun enough, but with Harry as our leader, it’s usually just pure hell!”
Hermione laughed before saying with a certain amount of admiration, “That’s to be expected, I’m sure. I mean, considering that his father was such an expert at it, it’s only meant to be that Harry is exceptional too. Look at all the trophies and accolades the father and son have won for Gryffindor!”
Blaise stifled a chuckle as Draco rolled his eyes.
Ginny grinned at the two Slytherins and then, without warning, grabbed Hermione’s arm and dragged her away to nearby stores, which included Honeydukes, a small Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes shop, and a little bookstore.
Draco was nonplussed for the first few minutes, but as he heard Ginny speaking a mile a minute, he understood what she was trying to do.
“And look, Hermione!” Ginny exclaimed as she pointed at a pile of chocolate frogs. “Don’t those look exactly like Neville’s toad, Trevor? Poor thing was always getting lost, though, and I can’t tell you the number of times we’ve all had to get down on our hands and knees to look for it!”
Hermione didn’t say anything, and Ginny rapidly pointed in another direction. “Look, see, there are those Toothflossing Stringmints you always used to get for your parents. Harry and Ron would always come in here and gorge themselves on Fizzing Whizbees and Drooble’s Best Blowing Gum…but I always had a liking for those Chocoballs. Mmmm, delicious!”
Hermione still didn’t react in any way, so Ginny decided that Honeydukes was out of order and quickly tugged Hermione over to Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes.
“Ha, ha, those boxes look familiar?” laughed Ginny as she pointed at a bunch of small and brightly colored boxes stacked up neatly on a shelf. “These here are the Skiving Snackboxes that Fred and George perfected and distributed during your fifth year. And ooooh, that stupid Umbridge got exactly what she deserved when Fred and George burst out of Hogwarts and left behind a literal swamp. Why, I can still see that old hag running around in her pink cardigan, yelling orders at Filch as she attempted to restore calm!”
When a few more tries in the shop didn’t yield any productive results, Ginny grabbed hold of Hermione’s hand and pulled her over to the bookstore.
As the two girls entered the fairly well stocked shop, Blaise and Draco went over to a two-seater bench in front of Honeydukes and sat down.
Draco leaned back and rested his head on the cold stone. He sighed, “Blaise, what should I do? Better yet, what should I be doing?”
Blaise knew what Draco was talking about, so he leaned back as well before saying quietly, “I don’t know, Draco. You know just as well as I do that right now, Hermione thinks of you as a friend. Now what you have to establish is do you want to be her friend.”
Conflicted in his thoughts, Draco decided to voice his worries. He knew that keeping quiet with Blaise would hinder more than help. “That’s the problem, Blaise. If Hermione were to retrieve all her memories right now, she would remember what a bastard I am and then she’d go immediately back into the old “I loathe you, you despise me” rut. But now, if I have to thwart her from believing what other people might say and are possibly saying as we speak, I would have to act like her best friend! Hell, I would have to act like I’m in love with her just to balance out my past self and my present self!”
“And is that such a bad thing?” asked Blaise softly as he gazed across the small path into the bookshop where Ginny and Hermione were roaming around in. “Is it such a bad thing to have to be someone’s best friend, to be their confidante, their aide? Is she really that repulsive that you can’t even afford to help her out a bit when you know that she needs you?” His dark eyes did not waver from Ginny’s face as she pulled out random books for Hermione and kept up a steady stream of chatter. “Is it really so bad, Draco, to be in love?”
Draco just sat there, speechless, until he followed Blaise’s gaze and saw where it landed.
“Bloody hell, Blaise…you…you can’t seriously be telling me right now that you’ve fallen in love! With Ginny!”
Blaise remained silent, but there was a certain stubborn set to his jaw as Draco continued, “You’ve only been together a few days! How could you possibly think that you’re in love? Do you even know what love feels like?!”
Blaise whipped his head around and his eyes flashed for just a second before they softened. “I know it’s been just a few days, Draco. But there’s no requirements when you fall in love with someone; it could take you days or it could take you months. You could fall in love with someone from the time of birth, or you could fall in love with someone after an entire lifetime on your death day. There are no restrictions in love, mate. None.”
“But – But your parents, Blaise! What about them? Would they ever approve of you, a pureblood, mixing with her, a blood traitor? How would you present yourself to society? Your name would be tarnished, and she would never be accepted into the other circles, and –”
“Am I to understand, Draco,” inquired Blaise calmly, “That you don’t approve?”
Draco began to stammer slightly. “No, no, I never said that. All I’m saying is that you should think it out before you do anything else.”
“I have thought it out,” Blaise said firmly. “And we should close this conversation here since the girls are coming back out.”
Draco quickly got to his feet as the two girls approached them. He saw Blaise shoot a questioning look at Ginny, but she just shook her head sadly before pasting a wide smile on her face.
“Well, I’m done for today!” she announced to Hermione’s obvious and faintly amusing relief. Apparently she hadn’t much enjoyed having her eardrums drilled with perpetual chattering, but Draco also knew that had the same thing happened to Ginny, Hermione would’ve done the exact same things to help her.
“So,” Draco asked slowly. “Can we go now?”
Blaise and Ginny nodded, but to Draco’s shock, when all four of them started walking back towards the castle, Hermione broke off from Ginny’s side and instead came to walk by him. He looked over Hermione’s head at Blaise who gave him a knowing grin, before stuffing his hands in his pockets and continuing to trudge forwards.
He never even noticed it when Hermione got a little closer to him and, very lightly, let their coat sleeves touch.
* * *
Once they were back in the castle, they all took off their coats and scarves and headed straight for the Great Hall as commanded by their ravenous stomachs. Again, Draco was mercilessly glared at by Pansy, but he took it unflinchingly. Why won’t the bitch just leave me well alone? he thought irately as he snatched a couple of sandwiches from the plate in front of him. Then, realizing with a jolt that brainpower was valuable and nonrenewable, he completely dismissed all thoughts of Pansy PMS Parkinson, and instead zeroed in on Hermione who was sitting with Ron, Harry, and Ginny at their table.
She had her hand tucked in under her chin as her elbow rested on the table and she watched Ron as he wildly threw his arms about and tried to reenact something. Once in a while, she would laugh, but the laugh never really reached her eyes. It was more of a cursory reaction; something that she would have to do just to show that she’s doing fine. Draco easily recognized her expression. It had been one he’d used many times before himself when he felt disinterested or just confused.
He tried to read Harry’s lips as he spoke so that he could find out what they were talking about. Many words slipped past him, but he recognized a few, such as dragon, Umbridge, Slughorn, and Hagrid. Draco knew that they were trying to spark some sort of recognition, anything that would start Hermione’s train of thought. But it was to no avail as one by one, they began losing steam and quietly lapsed into an uneasy silence.
When the lunch hour was over, Draco saw McGonagall briefly stop to talk with Hermione before turning back and speaking with Dumbledore. He wondered what it was about, but his question was soon answered as Hermione approached him and said, “Professor McGonagall would like for us to go up to the Head Common Room now and wait for her. She said she has something important to tell us.”
Draco nodded as Hermione waved back at the rest of her friends. They silently left the Great Hall and made their way up to the now familiar portrait of Wickham the Wise. Wickham had heard of Hermione’s situation, and his face was clouded with grief for her as Draco mumbled the password and they both walked inside.
Hermione sat down in her favorite armchair next to the fire, and Draco leaned into the corner of the loveseat and stretched out his long legs. Within a few minutes, McGonagall entered the room with a gargantuan scroll of parchment in her hand and a foreboding expression on her slightly pinched face.
“Ahem,” she cleared her throat, causing Hermione to look up attentively, and for Draco to sit up with slight apprehension etched onto his face. He didn’t like the look of that giant scroll. It could only mean trouble.
McGonagall opened the scroll with a flourish and began reading what Draco considered words of imminent death.
“As you both know,” she said in her we’ve-got-work-to-do voice, “It is nearing Halloween, and as per tradition, we have decided to host a Halloween Ball.”
Hermione’s face lit up with excitement at this statement, but Draco sank a little lower into his seat and mentally groaned. He knew this was going to happen sooner or later.
McGonagall gave him a stern look, as if she could read his mind, before continuing, “Needless to say, you both will be directing and organizing this event, and this scroll has all the requirements for the evening. You will be aided by the prefects with any and all preparations, and you will have to set up everything on Halloween day itself when we close the Great Hall for a few hours in advance. Any questions?”
Hermione eagerly jumped at the chance to speak. “Professor McGonagall, what sort of ball is this going to be? Are we going to want the students to dress in formal clothes, or is this going to be more casual….?”
“Ah, yes,” McGonagall said as she straightened her glasses on her nose. “Professor Dumbledore has hinted that he would very much enjoy a costume-themed ball, where couples each adhere to their own ideas, but still complement each other suitably. Which leads me to say,” she added with a formidable look at Draco’s scowling face, “That you two will be required to enter the Hall together that evening. You will not need to spend the remaining hours in each other’s arms, I can assure you that. Therefore, it would be wise for you to find your partners for that evening, and to do it fast. We cannot waste time on trifling matters when we have more pressing duties at hand, now can we?”
“Of course not, Professor,” Hermione chirped with alacrity. “Don’t worry, we’ll be able to handle this perfectly.”
“I’m sure you will,” McGonagall said as she passed the scroll over to Hermione whose eyes immediately began to blur as she sped-read. “Mr. Malfoy,” said McGonagall sharply to Draco who was still showing a lack of substantial enthusiasm. “Bear in mind that this is a team effort. Procrastinating and parasitism will not be favorable in this job at all…especially if I come to hear of it. Hogwarts has always hosted dignified and respectable events, and there is no need for that record to be marred now.”
She said a quick “good day to both of you” before trotting out through the portrait door and leaving behind an ecstatic Hermione and a fuming Draco.
“Wow, I can’t wait to get started on this!” Hermione cried happily. “Look at all this that we have to do! Band, decorations, music choices and other performances, color themes, seating and table arrangements…this is going to be so much fun, don’t you think?”
“Oodles.” Draco grumbled.
“Oh, come on, Draco! Lighten up!” she laughed as she grabbed his hand and pulled him down to the floor where she was kneeling with her own set of parchment and quills.
He sighed as he reluctantly sat down next to her and looked at the VERY LONG checklist.
“Hermione, is this necessary?” he groaned.
“Draco, please!” she said with mock exasperation as she began sketching a rough placement diagram for the tables.
“All I’m saying is that we don’t need to do everything today! Why don’t we just hold off for a bit, and then we can get to work?”
She dramatically rolled her eyes towards him and shook her head. “Didn’t you just hear what McGonagall said? ‘Procrastinating and parasitism will not be favorable in this job at all.’ This is some good stuff we’ve got, Draco. We should make this event memorable and fun!”
“Okay, okay,” he said as he scratched his head. “So, what do you want to start with?”
She showed him her already halfway complete diagram of a table and the way they would be spread out in the Great Hall. He was impressed by her attention to detail and the skilled way in which her quill darted across the parchment.
As she added small fixtures here and there, she explained, “So I was thinking that maybe we should have giant pumpkins as tables. They would be sturdy, aesthetic, and innovative, and they would be firmly glued to the ground so that they wouldn’t tip over or anything.”
Draco searched his own head for ideas, and then said, “I think we should bring in the band “The Vampires”. They’ve actually gotten very good reviews, and they only come into existence during Halloween.”
Hermione scribbled it down with amazing speed on her parchment. “That’s a good idea. And maybe we should charm the ceiling so that it’ll be just like the ‘dark and stormy night’ that you always seem to find in horror stories.”
“Oh, and one last thing before I tune out,” said Draco as an idea popped into his head. “Since it is a costume ball and all, why don’t we turn it into a competition? You know, with a ‘Best Dressed’ category, and a ‘Most Creative’, etc., etc.”
Hermione gasped. “Oh my gosh, Draco, that’s a marvelous idea! I can’t believe I didn’t think of that.”
Draco tried not to look too pleased with himself as she jotted down some final notes before bundling up her own scroll and tucking it under her arm.
She and he both stood up, with similar content expressions on their faces. Hermione smiled at Draco and said without a bit of inhibition, “You know, Draco, when I first found out that I was Head Girl, I thought I’d have some monster working with me, and that I wouldn’t be able to do any of the spectacular things that I’d dreamed of doing for the past six years.”
He peered over at her curiously and asked her, “Well, what do you think now? Things going at all the way you planned?”
She grinned. “Definitely. At first, I thought that if McGonagall ever gives me a job like this, I’ll never be able to make it up to her standards. But now, that’s changed.”
“Why?”
She took his hand in hers and gave it a gentle squeeze.
“Because I have you.”
*****************
No comments:
Post a Comment